


Bright memories

by taralynden



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Chinese New Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-17
Updated: 2012-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-31 08:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taralynden/pseuds/taralynden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A group of Autobots on a world tour stop in China during Chinese new year celebrations and enjoy the festivities</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> written for an LJ prowlxjazz community challenge with the following prompts:  
> Mandarin Oranges - symbolizes luck  
> Red - stands for joy, sincerity, properity  
> Number 8 - wealth (not necessarily monetary)  
> Lion dance - said to protect from evil/evil spirits  
> Chrysanthemums - longevity

With the Decepticons gone from Earth and Metroplex still under construction there was little for many in the crew to do. Intending to stave off the... creativity... he knew the crew were capable of when left idle, Prowl had recommended that it was the perfect time for them to explore the planet they were currently living on and get to know their allies a little better.

The intention was to visit every country, to be seen by as much of the population as possible, and to reassure that they were different from the Decepticons. The Americans had offered to help with translators but it was unnecessary: the mechs could quickly assimilate any language available on the internet and be fluent in it within minutes, and for any other language Blaster and his cassettes could pick up a language quickly and then share it with the others.

It went down well with the locals, wherever they went, to be able to converse openly and confidently in their own language. Which was not to say there were not still cultural misunderstandings at times, but those were only to be expected.

Prowl's gaze drifted to where Jazz was deep in animated discussion with some performers in costume. The moment his partner had realised it was almost Chinese New Year he had been begging for their itinerary to be changed so they could stay for the whole festival.

It would make them late to Bhutan even if he called Skyfire up to transport them, but he had already decided to allow this indulgence. There was no telling when they would next have a lull in their duties like this, and it was a treat just to watch Jazz having fun.


	2. Mandarin oranges

They had been smelling it for awhile, but it got stronger as they turned into the next street.

"What is that smell?" Gears complained.

"I do believe it is mostly comprised of 2-hydroxypropane-1,2,3-tricarboxylic acid." Perceptor considered, his optics dimming faintly as he ran the analysis.

"Say what?" Cliffjumper frowned, distracted by all the people trying to catch their attention.

"The acid commonly found in the class of fruit humans refer to as 'citrus'. In this case I believe the scent is coming from the stalls selling mandarin oranges. There are a remarkable number of vendors here for that product."

"That's because it's New Years." Blaster explained, grinning as Ramhorn gave four children a little ride around the group. "I looked it up - they're supposed to be lucky."

"How can fruit be lucky?" Cliffjumper asked dubiously. "Why would they even want to be?"

"I understand that it is more that they bring luck to the humans, than to themselves." Prowl put in, watching Jazz copying some of the dance moves of the performers near one of the stalls.

"And that doesn't make you fritzy?" Gears asked suspiciously.

"A proportion of luck is perspective. If you have optimism that matters will turn out well, they are likely to. Beyond that..."

It happened too fast for him to call out a warning. Jazz spun around gracefully, nearly crushing a child who was chasing after an escapee mandarin rolling along the ground but spotting him just in time and adjusting his movement to avoid the potentially fatal mistake.

"Beyond that," he continued, "I've lived with Jazz long enough to simply accept luck where I find it. Even in fruit."


	3. Red

~Hey Prowler, gimme a hand would ya?~

It was late, well past midnight, but the fireworks and celebrations continued. Many of the humans were not sleeping, but the Autobots had mostly retreated to their temporary accommodation for some space where they were less likely to accidentally stand on someone in the thronging crowds.

They had been given access to an old walled temple which gave them the freedom to be in either root or alt mode in relative privacy, though there were plenty of curious humans perched on the walls. And the camera crews who had followed them halfway around the globe were also present, as always, though most of them had already retired inside to rest.

~What do you need?~ Prowl began, turning towards the shadowed area near the back then staring in surprise.

Jazz was tangled in a string of lanterns connected by loops of twine. They had wrapped around his torso, pinning one arm in place and caught on a spar on the other elbow, effectively binding him. He could probably break free on his own, but it would risk getting wax and twine beneath his plating which would be awkward to deal with.

It reminded Prowl of how Bumblebee had gotten caught in a line of fairy lights the first time they had put up Christmas decorations in the _Ark_. It also reminded him of a bondage game Jazz had once talked him into - something that he would not be averse to repeating, given some privacy.

"Done starin' yet?" Jazz grimaced at him.

Deciding regretfully not to act on those last thoughts - it would inevitably end up on film, and they would spend the next year or more explaining it - he found a loose end and began to unwind.

"Should I ask how you got yourself into such a state?"

"I was lookin' for somethin' red t'wear."

"Hmm?"

"Everyone's s'posed t'wear red, at least for the first day."

"Does this not count?" Prowl asked, tapping at the red stripe on Jazz's chest before continuing to work on unpicking a knot in the twine that was digging into Jazz's elbow.

"I guess so, but I'd like it t'be somethin' different. Somethin' new - ow!"

"Sorry."

"Nah, it's okay. It's good to have that out of there."

"I'm sure. So. True to your usually flamboyant nature, you decided that wrapping yourself in lanterns was more appropriate?"

"Uh, not exactly. One o'the fireworks fell over just as they lit it, an' it was gonna go straight into the crowd, so I jumped into the way and then rolled it into the ground. I didn't even notice the lanterns til I tried to get up afterwards. Whew, that's so much better. Well, I guess I'd better keep lookin'..."

"Wait." Prowl stopped him, reaching into his subspace pocket and withdrawing the item that he had stored there. "How about this?"

It was a copper bracelet, handmade to his instructions by an artisan in a small town they had passed through a few days earlier. He had been planning to give it to Jazz at some point, with no particular occasion in mind, but once the subject of Chinese New Year had come up he had had it modified a little further - it was now painted red, and engraved with the Chinese character for 'joy' and the Cybertronian glyph for the same.

"I did read up on this festival." he continued, slipping it over Jazz's hand and onto his wrist. "It is traditional to give small gifts, also, I believe."

"It's gorgeous, babe." Jazz murmured, twisting it around to look at the design. "I'll have t'come up wit'somethin' in return. Lemme think about it."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that." Prowl mused, coiling up the line of lanterns and subspacing it for safe-keeping until he could put it to use back in their quarters aboard the _Ark_. "This will do nicely."


	4. Number 8

The clock turned to eight minutes past eight, and the crowds in the street cheered. Perceptor shook his head.

"I understand the reasoning we found: the symmetry of the figure 8 and the similarity of pronunciation to other positive words, but the concept of a number bringing wealth remains unclear."

"I have stopped attempting to make sense of any of this." Prowl admitted. "I think Blaster put it best yesterday when he pointed out that our own responses to the use of the number five would baffle the humans in the same way."

Perceptor frowned but said nothing further, and they continued to watch the display from the sidelines.

Five was an uncomfortable number. Teams were never deliberately made up of five members (with gestalt teams the combined form was always counted so they were considered a team of six); buildings were designed with either four spires or six; the oldest tales spoke of five-faced enemies (though it was usually acknowledged that this was a metaphor).

For all that, it was still just a number.

Of course, 8 was something else too. Turn it ninety degrees, and it was acknowledged by humans as the symbol for infinity. And oddly, one of the most common Cybertronian glyphs for infinity was remarkably similar to the Chinese character for wealth.

But that was just coincidence.


	5. Lion dance

Prowl was heading back to the temple, tired of the noise and bustle and constant need to watch for people who did not take enough care to ensure their own safety, when Jazz caught up with him.

"You gotta come see this." he insisted, tugging on Prowl's arm.

"Jazz, I've had enough. You go and enjoy it, I'm going to get some charge."

"After this. Please, Prowler? It'll only take a few minutes. Blaster'll be so disappointed."

"Blaster?"

Jazz did not seem to hear him, heading away and pulling Prowl along with him. Sighing, Prowl supposed he could put up with a few minutes more.

They wound through a maze of busy streets, finally coming out in a park. A space had been cleared for yet another lion dance - a tradition said to protect the watchers from evil in the year to come. It was impressive, but he had seen several already and he was about to make that point to Jazz when he saw the other participant.

Steeljaw was bounding around and alongside the three Chinese lions, imitating them. And then, adding to the confusion, there was another lion - this one with distinctively metal legs and considerably less co-ordination.

"Rewind and Eject?" he guessed.

Jazz nodded merrily.

"Blaster's been gettin' the costume ready all mornin' since they got permission t'join in. Ramhorn didn't wanna play, but the others're havin' fun, an' Blaster's proud enough t'burst."

He leaned back a little to watch Jazz watching the spectacle. He knew his partner envied Blaster his symbionts, wanted a sparkling of his own to raise. They had talked about this many times before, and Jazz always insisted that they should wait until the war was over before taking that path, that there were too many risks.

Perhaps it was time to revisit that decision, though? Things were safe here on Earth, and would stay that way once Metroplex was online.

"Hey, you're not watchin'." Jazz chided him.

Prowl dutifully turned his attention back to the spectacle. Now was not the time to have that discussion in any case. But he filed it on his personal 'to do' list and flagged it as a priority.


	6. Chrysanthemums

"For you, mister robot sir." the little girl said clearly, eyes downcast, hand stretched high above her head clasping the bunch of flowers tightly.

Prowl knelt and sank down on his heels so he was lower down, then gently gathered the flowers into his hand.

"Thank you. They are very pretty."

Chrysanthemums. A symbol of longevity, or so he had been told.

There was something ironic in that. His race were not aware of any actual limit to how long they could live. With regular maintenance and good medical care and occasional replacement parts, it was theoretically possible for them to survive for thousands or even millions of vorns. The war had disrupted that and may yet kill them all, but the theory remained sound.

So very different to the ephemeral humans, who considered it a good length of time if they survived to see out a single vorn.

"I hope you live forever and protect us." she finished, bowing, then scampered off into the crowd.

Rising, he looked at the tiny organic strands in his palm. They would fade quickly if not preserved, but his memory of them and of this moment would not. That could be stored for as long as he functioned.


	7. Epilogue

~You've been quiet the last few days.~ Jazz commented as they drove down the highway away from the town where they had stayed for the festival. ~You okay?~

~I'm fine. It's nice to see you enjoying yourself like this.~

~Yeah, but too many people for you, right?~

Prowl considered for a few minutes before responding.

~I found it exhausting where you clearly found it exhilarating. But that is not the same as saying I did not enjoy it.~

~True. Well, don't worry - only another month an' we're scheduled to go home for a bit, right?~

~That is the plan, yes. We need to check on the progress with Metroplex, and the first ship from Cybertron is due to arrive with the refugees. There will be much to do.~

~An' ya call _this_ exhausting.~ Jazz teased, laughing.

Prowl smiled inwardly. As tiring as this experience had been, he did not regret a moment of it, and he hoped they would gather many similar memories before they had to move on and resume the endless fight.

Bright memories of luck, joy, wealth, protection and longevity.


End file.
